


This Ain't a Scene. It's an Arms Race(Introduction)

by missingisntanoption



Series: 100 Themes (Clint/Coulson) [1]
Category: Agents of SHIELD - Fandom, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers
Genre: #1, 100 Themes Challenge, Angst, Clint Barton Needs a Hug, First Time Meeting, Guns, Shooting, i guess, introduction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-11
Updated: 2014-12-11
Packaged: 2018-02-28 23:48:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2751668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missingisntanoption/pseuds/missingisntanoption
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It seems like everyone has those cute stories about how they met.<br/>Phil and Clint's is cute..</p>
<p>or not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Ain't a Scene. It's an Arms Race(Introduction)

**Author's Note:**

> I am so horrible at finishing things I start. I'm hoping I might be able to get into this 100 themes, and really get back into writing. (My two unfinished fics :o)
> 
> We'll see (:
> 
> Unbeta'd per usual

Clint Barton had done a lot of bad things in his life. He had a lot of bad things done to him. He supposed that's how it normally worked anyway.  After the circus, after Trickshot and Bar-his accomplice- he wouldn't call the man with him Barney, because that hadn't been him. Had been someone else that night. Clint couldn't connect the two in his mind. After they had beaten him, and left him for dead, Clint didn't have much choice left available to him. 

He needed money, food, places to stay. He was also very good with a bow. So Clint did what seemed like his only option was. He sold his skills, and killed for money. Did whatever it took to take out the target. Of course, he had his own set of rules. He wouldn't go after children. Wouldn't kill innocent people. Government Officials, Mob bosses, anyone like that was fair game. He told himself that they were better off dead, that he was doing a good thing.  

It was what helped him sleep at night, and that was mattered, now wasn't it?

Now Clint, he never expected to live long. Not with how his early life had gone, and what he decided to do for a career. When he became aware that Shield was after him, he expected to be taken out as soon as possible. That didn't mean he was resigned to it, he ran alright, ran as far as he could while still making money. If he saw Shield, or anyone who looked like government nosing around he'd bolt, gone without a trace. He was confused though, because he had heard rumors about Shield. Heard about how they'd take the bad guys out quickly, and without a mess. Which made him wonder how he was still alive. Some Ex-Carney from Iowa surely wasn't better than a bunch of trained killers. 

It was a couple week later Clint laid bleeding out in some shitty back alley, rain falling down harshly as a bullet stuck in his thigh and some asshole in a suit squatting in front of him with his lips quirked up at the corner. Almost if he found something about this amusing.

"I am Phil Coulson. I work for Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division. I'd like to make a deal with you, Mr. Barton."

 If someone had told him that tracking down Clint Barton would be this much of a hassle, he would have told Fury exactly where to stick his mission... Maybe. Regardless, this is not what he agreed to. Chasing this kid and turned from a simple week long op, to one that had been spanning for months. As many times as Phil had pleaded with Fury to either let the kid alone, or to just put a bullet through his head and end it, Nick was adamant that he be brought in, alive. That he could be an asset, he just wasn't aware of his options. 

Alright then. 

So for months they had been tracking Clint Barton. The Amazing Hawkeye. Watched him catch on to their presence before they could even get close enough to grab him. Phil was  _tired._

 Phil gave Clint a couple weeks. Decided to let him get comfortable, maybe let his guard down just a little bit. Just enough. At the end of those couple weeks, Phil headed out alone to the location they knew Clint was hiding this time. He was fairly sure that part of the problem before was that there was too many people involved, too many loose ends to account for. This way it was only him. He wouldn't let Barton get away this time. 

It was about a week after he arrived, he'd been watching Clint's routine. Once he felt it was safe, Phil followed Clint back to his hideout. The archer was better than Phil though, and caught on to his presence, trying to make it out through the back. Unfortunately for him, that led right to a blocked off alley. Not that he would have known that, recently blocked off thanks to Phil directly. 

Phil had his gun out- he wasn't planning on shooting, but he could see Barton reaching for his bow, and knew if he got it out, Phil wouldn't have a chance to speak before an arrow was through his heart. 

No thank you. 

Quicker than Barton, he raised his gun and shot him cleanly in the thigh. Enough to take down, not kill. Missing anything important that could trigger him to bleed out. Phil's blue eyes tracked Clint's slump to the ground- almost silent. He didn't want to appear weak then, Phil could understand that well enough. Putting his gun away, Phil approached Clint's slouched form, stopping right in front of him and squatting. The expression on his face was almost close to a smile. Thank god this was over. 

"I am Phil Coulson. I work for Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division. I'd like to make a deal with you, Mr. Barton."

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are appreciated, and really help give me motivation to write.


End file.
